Dilusional
by The Ingenious Dragon
Summary: Ok, my parents sent ME to a shrink, and the guy's having me keep a journal thingy… this is the beginning… im going to make be like its Hinata talking though.
1. A Prologue: The Beginning

**Ok, my parents sent me to a shrink, and she's having me keep a journal thingy… this is the beginning…**

**-The Immortal Dragon-**

* * *

Be you either friend or foe,

this warning is to let you know;

I begin this

under pressure.

The further you read,

the more you invade my mind.

Take something from me that I don't want to give.

**My thoughts.**

You will enter a place that I don't want to be.

_My conscience._

You will learn secrets that no one should know.

Past.

Present.

And future.

All are written in these pages.

So remember this and follow me.

* * *

**-x-**


	2. A way to die

Ok, my parents sent me to a shrink, and she's having me keep a journal thingy… this is the beginning…

**-1-**

**Tuesday;**

I figured I'd start with "dear journal," or simply "book," – mainly because I think it sounds better than "dear diary."

I'm not exactly sure what I'm supposed to write, but I guess I'm supposed to start in the beginning, ne, as goes with any story, yeah?

Getting Away With Murder. And I own my own deranged brain. Please, try to enjoy.

**-x-**

Friend I tell you, here in these pages, ye shall gain knowledge of the things I fear; some are understandably, but as for the others, ye may look at me queer.

**-x-**

My last visit to the beach had been…traumatizing. I had been to pools before, though had never went inside the deeper end of the waters. At the pool, there had at least been safety guards to ensure my safety from the other children's. Despite how morbid I am and appear I do not hold fancy over any thoughts of drowning. If anything, I assumed drowning to be the most tragic way to die. Burning alive seemed like a warm shower compared to the feeling one got when their lungs are about to wear out. The feeling of suffocation, the pain of immeasurable pressure, the sensation of your body being crushed to the point of combusting, from the inside out–– everything was painful.

At least, when one is impaled they hold the control of releasing their suffering. They could scream, they could cry. But under water, no such pleasantry consists. It's as if a blue, agonizing room is closing in on you. Each wall is covered with spikes meant to run you through, and the ceiling rains acidic fluids.

Yes, drowning was indeed painful, and despite the large abundance of sand at the beach, the experience of it is far too foreboding to be optimistic.

Right before we hit the water, I stopped shortly. Natalya looked back curiously, and I slowly shook my head twice. Perhaps she could see the panic in my eyes. The desperation to run away. The muscles on my face hadn't moved an inch, but she must have noticed, because she came closer to me and put a hand on my shoulder.

"What's wrong, Petra?"

I stared into her deep blue eyes stoically, and forced myself to speak the words. Somehow, I didn't mind so much that Natalya would know my greatest fear. Somehow, I didn't mind so much at all.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, one that hadn't manifested there in years, I said the two words that I had never before voiced aloud to anyone, let alone to myself.

I braced myself, and said the words.

"I'm…scared…"

Natalya didn't laugh. She didn't grab my hand and throw me in the water in cruelly. Her eyes didn't glitter mischievously, and she didn't smirk venomously.

Instead, she took my hand and squeezed, and I could almost feel her reassurance.

"I swear, I won't let anything happen to you, Petra…"

My eyes flashed distrustfully, and I knew it. Even if Natalya wouldn't hurt me, that didn't promise that I would not get hurt at all. That didn't mean that someone else wouldn't. That the waves wouldn't rise in anger, and sweep me away. That the creatures and plants lurking down below wouldn't capture my feet and drag me down. That the sea wouldn't drown me. That I wouldn't die a painful, cold and desolate death.

I didn't even notice that I was trembling until Natalya's body pressed tightly into mine. My head shot up, and I stiffened. When she moved away, she turned to me and looked at me with a smile that made my chest hurt.

What was I doing? Allowing someone else to see me so weak. To see me so low. I was Petra Costa; stoic, impassive, dangerous, cruel. I didn't talk, unless I wanted to. I didn't react, unless it was in my best interests. I didn't smile, and I didn't laugh. I didn't hold on to others, nor did I need anyone's support. I did what I wanted, when I wanted, and I did it alone.

I was all this, and yet… when Natalya held out her hand, with that dazzling smile of her that seemed to melt the glaciers in my chest, and walked slowly towards the ocean that I feared so much, I couldn't help but place my hands into hers.

Because I trust her.

As stupid, and idiotic, and dangerous as that may be….

I trusted her.

And so I knew I was in trouble.

**-x-**


	3. To Kill A White Devil

Ok, my parents sent me to a shrink, and she's having me keep a journal thingy… this is the beginning…

**-2-**

**Wednesday;**

Night and the spirit of life...calling. And a voice, with the fear of a child...answers. Wait...There's no mountain too great. Hear the words and have faith...have faith.

Sunset – a vibrant orange, sweet cotton candy pinks, and baby blues, sharp violets, and lilacs; all marred with a bloody red.

A glowing sun fell ever lower, shining its last rays upon a child with a refined beautiful face. It was a pale porcelain face that was smooth and flawless. A pale face adorned with hair as white and fine as silken snow; hair as soft as down. A sweet boy with eyes as green as the clearest emerald, eyes glistening wet with unshed tears. A frail elegance. Little boy – witch or beauty? Delicate and brittle, he is easily broken.

Time was passing quickly now, dusk was falling fast. The day was disappearing in a monochrome of grey.

Little boy, so pale in the night, shivering in fright. The lonely face of a sad angel. A sliver of light falls upon him this night, just enough to see a single eye. The rest is all shrouded in darkness; see now, a tear falls, glittering and wet in the night. Forlorn he cries, that little boy –

"Mea culpa**…** it's my entire fault."

eath wrapped itself around him; cold arms around that beauty of a boy. Frozen unreal lips pressed to his, as death stole his first ever kiss.

The night was gone. The morning star was shining in the sky. The glowing sun rose, shedding its first rays upon three figures in chains- one of them, the sad faced angel.

What was his crime?

Nothing except for his being so pale. A white devil, that sweet little beauty, that darling little boy; pure of soul, heart, and mind- he was an innocent butterfly. Though that night while he was bound in cold steel chains, waiting for the gallows, a tongue of black fire- a tiny lick of a flame - had found entry to his soul, and had devoured it.

That night had ended in a baptism of tears- We had wept, all of us, for the beautiful boy. We wept for the sad faced angel, and for the two sons who left the bodies of their fathers, without so much as shedding a single tear. We wept as he left us; he left quickly as he had come, a windswept shadow.

It was like a reunion of the two worlds, Anger and something calmer; something sane. Well, sanity is only insanity from a different point of view. Eventually, insanity will be labeled the winner over what was once sane.

And so the star's doth scream**…** have faith.

**-x-**

* * *

If only i could end like this, the poor kit; I tell ye this reader, his ending fared far better than mine.

Though you'll have to wait until the next chapter, or do, till i begin to tell my tale.

-X-


	4. To Murder An Angel

Ok, my parents sent me to a shrink, and she's having me keep a journal thingy… this is the beginning…

**-3-**

**Thursday;**

**Something Sadder Than Love-**

She watched the moon for over an hour, wishing she could stay forever within its simple transparency of light. Slowly, upon hearing her mother's call, she dragged herself into her room, falling onto her bed with a muffled thump- not even bothering to change out of her day wear.

She fell, forever, drowning, in a fitful sleep.

She dreamt of Hestron the angel treasured by all and of Mestraal the fairest angel, and most loved.

They once were two friends, she knew, but they were brothers really.

One was love and one was light- the other was a warped creature of the night, one so lost and lonely- the other only wishing to be freed of the bind to his wards; both wishing to be left alone. If not one was able to be with her.

She could not believe that he had died.

Hestron…

Her guardian…

Her beloved friend.

And then not even to mention Mestraal…

His brother…

A closer tie than any she'd ever had…

Together standing in warped time, two angels; two brothers- One angel whiter than the heavens itself, was sweeter than honey. He smiled; it was a sad smile, one meant to show that whatever you loved, that was your weakness. The other angel, the blacker one, the one whose soul was blacker than hell; and colder than the moon smiled a grim looking smile. His smiled betrayed a darkened thought; a thought of taking little girls to the forest to cut out their hearts. Their hands were twined together by a chord of thorns, their blood the only color.

This was their form of a funeral. Their way of saying goodbye… They had welcomed her with open arms, and with wings spread wide… she did not deserve this – she was a sinner… she had murdered an angel –not intentionally, of course; but the thought was still there.

It was something much sadder than any love that she could ever have known. But what is love anyways? Is love truly nothing but a way to hurt those around you? She knew then the pain that they have born.

Mestraal's dark wings engulfed her. The lack of accusations made things worse for her, it made her want to cry. But Mestraal understood her despair. He held her more tightly, that angel of the dark, as if he could sense her love for Hestron stirring madly, waiting to engulf her.

She sits there singing softly, crying for his brother, Mistraal's wings wrapped tightly around her small frame, holding her so that there was no room to breathe, no space to think.

"We all loved him," he whispered. "Remote from flesh, sometimes it seemed as if Hestron could cradle the whole world in his wings, all giving, asking nothing of it in return. Weep with me, my love; weep for Hestron with me now."

And she did. She wept with all that was in her, till at last her well of tears had run dry.

No, love was a way to mourn for those you cared for. She understood that now.

All through the night, you could hear a soft melancholy singing- a sound of a thousand angels mourning the passing of one.

* * *

**Reader, you remember the mentionings of Natalya, ne? She was an angel, to me anyways, beautiful, glorious, my only love; **

**I hadn't mean to do it, really I hadn't, but she had gotten in the way, when ****she had tried to stop me from killing the bastard that had dared to lay his meaty hands on her, had dared touch her. why she chose to defend him was beyond me, perhaps t'was 't spear me of having to go 't jail on her account, or something.**

**That bastard who raped her was the same man who had molested me as a child.**

**That story you will learn of in the next chapter or so,**

**Adenos.**

**-x-**


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